


Habits Are Hard To Break

by The_Bad_Wolf



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Knife Play, Nipple Clamps, Or at least a flashback to it, Oral Sex, Overstimilation, Praise Kink, Smut, pure filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24278182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bad_Wolf/pseuds/The_Bad_Wolf
Summary: (By original female character I just mean reader)You live on Raoul Silva’s island as a captive ex MI6 translator and his own personal sub.He has a habit that you are not too fond of and decide to break it.Translations are in the bottom notes section but anything long will be translated underneath it to save scrollingPlease enjoy!
Relationships: Raoul Silva | Tiago Rodriguez/Original Female Character(s), Reader/Raoul Silva | Tiago Rodriguez, You/Raoul Silva | Tiago Rodriguez
Kudos: 18





	Habits Are Hard To Break

Raoul Silva had an annoying habit. 

This habit just happened to be sneaking up behind you and pleasuring you before leaving like nothing happened. It would have been fine if he did it long enough for you to come, hell it would even be fun, but no. He liked to tease you until you begged and your thighs quivered and then go and make himself a sandwich.

His annoying habit meant that at times, you viewed him as quite the annoying bastard. This was one of those times.

After allowing this habit to continue for a little over a month, you had decided to do something about it. It had gotten to the point where in normal sex or any of the wondrously kinky things you both enjoyed, he wouldn’t let you finish and you knew from the rules that you weren’t allowed to just whip out your hand and go to town. Raoul was always an incredibly talented lover and dom, so you knew that this was deliberate, after all he had never failed to make you come before unless it was for a punishment. 

It was after one of his little pleasure games in the kitchen that you had remembered something from around 3 months ago. 

You were partially suspended off the bed by your torso, unable to move due to the complicated and beautiful rope work he had done to ensure that one of the most powerful vibrators invented was right over your clit. Your walls clenched against nothing and you felt empty, needing something inside you. Sweat dripped from your forehead and your skin had a slight gleam from it. You were gagged as your hands clenched into fists, trying to get ahold of yourself in the endless torrent of pleasure.

He on the other hand was sitting on a chair in an immaculate three piece suit. The bastard.

He looked like a hungry wolf as he watched you come apart at the seams. Your screams of pleasure were muffled by a cloth gag and he smiled to himself watching you wither about after your first orgasm. 

Raoul adored overstimulation. He adored watching people realise that what they longed for most at first was suddenly their worst enemy as pleasure turned to pain. It was the main reason he didn’t blindfold you- he wanted to see the look in your eyes when that realisation struck you, to see your tears fall and all the while have you forced to watch him be neat and proper with you being kept in an extremely inappropriate position, knowing you looked like a needy slut. 

By orgasm number 3 he could hear your pleading through the gag. He could hear you beg for it to end and he could see the need in your eyes. It was delightful. The two of you knew that all you had to do was click your fingers twice and your torment would be over. The two of you also knew that you were planning on doing nothing of the sort. You could see how much your sweet pain pleasure mix aroused him, how even though he was still prim and proper in his outfit, his pupils were blown and his trousers tented. 

It was then that he began to speak. He knew that one of the things in this world that affected you most was his voice. Not just that, but you had a thing for other languages. It really was no wonder that you had worked at MI6 as a language analyst and translator. You loved how certain languages sounded, especially French and Spanish with their gorgeous r rolls and the seductive sound of their words. The wondrous wave of harsh words spoken in soft syllables. 

He smiled as he watched you react to his native tongue. “Sabes, siempre quise jugar un pequeño juego contigo. Para darte placer y dejarte dolorido. Me gusta imaginar que te cansarás tanto que terminarás viniendo a mí mientras trabajo, arrodíllate y llévame a tu boca. Puede que no sea tan duro, pero pronto me volveré caliente y pesado en esa cálida boca tuya. Oh, las cosas que te haría después de que me terminaras, te harían gritar, querida, y me negaría a amordazarte. Quiero que salga cada pequeña súplica y maldición. ¿No sería divertido?” 

(You know, I’ve always wanted to play a little game with you. To pleasure you and leave you aching. I like to imagine that you’d get so sick of it that you would end up coming to me as I work, drop to your knees and take me into your mouth. I may not be all the way hard but I would soon grow to be hot and heavy in that warm mouth of yours. Oh the things I would do to you after you finish me off, it would make you scream my dear, and I would refuse to gag you. I want every little plea and curse to come out. Wouldn’t that be fun?)

That had led to orgasm number 4.

Fine. If he wanted you to play along, you would. Your core still dripping and pulsing from his little game. You set down your cup of tea, sad to know it would be long cold when you came back to it, but it was currently far too hot to drink. He could make you another after he made up for the past month’s orgasm denial fiasco.

You stripped off until you were completely naked- you knew that seeing your bare skin, unmarked by cut or whip or bruise made him aroused. It made him long to put marks on it, to create the most perfect work of art through a symphony of pleasure and pain. 

You walked into the ‘living room’. This portion of the island he had put work into decorating as it was where he lived and he just loved to be extra. He had a main working area and server room about a 3 minute walk away but happened to prefer his ‘home’ for light work. You dropped to your knees on the soft, thick white carpet and crawled towards him. The only acknowledgment of your existence you got has a soft exhale and a small smirk. You could tell he was pleased that you figured out his little game.

You used your hands to get him out of his trousers before promptly putting them behind your back, making a mental note to keep them there. You got the impression that this part was for his pleasure only- that being said you couldn’t help the rush of arousal you felt knowing you were going to please him. There was just something about giving him pleasure that struck you to your core. It’s why you’ve been down to try so many new things with him, you got off to him getting off.

You relaxed slightly as you took him into your mouth. You had a job to do and you would do it. Right now in this moment, nothing else mattered but enjoying him, pleasing him, being owned and used and loved by him. And that was all you needed. You began to suckle him, tongue tracing to lick the tip and run along the head. 

You moved down to take more of him and sucked a little harder as he let out a small groan. You wanted more of those noises. You wanted to hear that you were doing well, that he was enjoying your attention. Most of all you wanted the bastard to stop fucking typing and give in to the sensations you were providing. 

Just like he said, he was hot and heavy in your mouth. It had taken some hard practice long ago to learn to take all of him without gagging and you still had to work to get his manhood down your throat. But you did. And when you did you realised he had given up on his work- he had stopped the clattering of keys in order to appreciate your work. He watched you as you looked up to make eye contact, pausing your careful ministrations.

“So, my sweet, perfect submissive, you have remembered.” He purred, his voice thick with arousal. The man had always been a toppy bastard and took careful note of anything you had enjoyed in order to create a carrot-stick environment during play. He remembered how you loved praise. How you loved him speaking. How you loved him to fuck your throat with wild abandon, not seeming to care how you choked or gagged around him, to be used for his pleasure. And it seemed like his large mental database of your kinks would come in handy.

His hands travelled to your hair and he leaned back and said, “remember to breathe, I know how you can get caught up in the moment dear.” After that he used his grip on your hair and head to drag your mouth to and from him, using it as a simple hole to fuck. He stopped for a second before starting again, much faster this time as the began to thrust into it. You could only do your best to keep your teeth out of the way and hollow out your cheeks for him as you began to gag on his cock.

He sped up more, eyes closing as his head tilted back before coming down your throat with a throaty groan. You swallowed his load with practiced precision and released him from your mouth, giving a parting lick to the tip.

He sat there for a second catching his breath and basking slightly in a post orgasmic haze while you kneeled beneath him, becoming increasingly aware of the slick that was travelling down your thighs. He stood up and bent down to kiss you lightly before motioning for you to follow him to the bedroom. You decided to remain on your knees and crawl, wanting to be a perfect sub for him as you kept your eyes low. Despite your mental nickname of ‘bastard’ you had for him, you weren’t in a bratty mood at all, in fact you felt a need inside of you to be good for him, to be his ‘sweet, perfect submissive.’

Once the two of you inside the bedroom, he closed the door and opened a large dark wardrobe that you had affectionately dubbed ‘the closet of kink’ and pulled out a few items. One of them being your collar. Fastening it around your neck he picked you up and carefully threw you on the bed. It was always a surprise when he did that as you often forgot that he was actually that strong. 

From the bed you could actually see a few of the items he had pulled out- your favourite black rope, a roll of his fancy knives, some disinfectant and alcohol rubs and two or three objects you couldn’t really get a good look at. 

It was clear that this was deliberate when he set all of the visible equipment on the bedside table and left the others on the floor. He smiled to himself as he took your hands and tied them above your hands with the rope, slowly, making sure you felt the sensation of the rope pulling across your skin. 

After that he just sat there, still smiling, and rubbed his hands along your body. Rough palms and smooth fingertips ran along your torso and neck. They pinched your nipples and caressed your face. You could feel his body heat and see the constant hunger in his eyes. One hand continued to run across the plains of your skin while the other reaches down to the floor to grab a previously hidden pair of nipple clamps that were connected by a chain. Pinching your nipples he put them on one at a time and tightened them. The pain was biting and you had to breathe for a few seconds before nodding you were okay. 

He loomed over you as he took the chain between his teeth and pulled it, pulling a moan out of you. “So good for me, my dear,” he said affectionately as he reached over to grab an alcohol wipe. “Tell me if anything is too much for you?” You nodded a little, but it was clear he wanted words. Clearing your throat you mumbled, “Si, Maestro,” the little grin was all the inventive you needed to be open to communication. You never liked to hear yourself talk during a scene, you found your own ‘sex voice’ to be quite unappealing, however Raoul loved it when you made the effort to speak to him in his native tongue, and he especially loved it when it was in said ‘sex voice.’

“Ahhhh mi querida, you have no idea what you speaking Spanish does to me.” He groaned as he tore open the alcohol wipe and began carefully running it along your skin. “I don’t suppose you have a preference for which of my knives I use?”

You smiled softly, the pain of the nipple clamps was fading and you were just enjoying the feeling of skin on skin contact. “No, Maestro.” You leaned back so you were completely lying down and closed your eyes as you heard him unravel the knife holder and select one. You could tell that this scene was going to be purely for pleasure with minimal amounts of pain from the way he was treating you- with great love and care. You could smell the disinfectant he was using on the knife and hear when he replaced the cap. 

“I plan you for to enjoy this, sweetness, just relax.” He whispered sweetness nothings to you in Spanish as he ran the knife along your body, letting you fully experience the sensation. It was cold and you somehow knew it was the sharpest one he had. When he took the knife away from your skin he let you breathe a little. You knew from prior experience that this meant he was looking for where to place the first of many thin cuts.

You felt those soft fingertips teasingly caress a place just above your hip bone. You maintained your previous breathing pattern as he removed his hand and quickly made a shallow cut. It stung slightly but the feeling was soon washed away when he bent down to lave at the wound. Your walls clenched in arousal as you crunched up to watch. 

When he did this process again, it was near your collarbones and you gasped a little, muttering, “Maestro, tus manos por favor!” He looked up at you and made eye contact, “Where would you like my hands, dear?” Groaning you replied with, “mi coño por favor maestro.” He let out a lyrical laugh at your language before trailing one hand down your body to rub against your clit. You moaned, thrusting up your hips to get more contact while he selected the next place to cut.

This process went on for some time before he placed a finger inside of you. “Si Maestro! Si, si, si!” You clenched around him as he put the knife on the stand. “It seems like you would enjoy some sexual stimulation, dearest. It’s not long to wait now, not long at all.” He removed his hand and took off the nipple clamps, leaving you nipples incredibly sensitive as he reached down to grasp another of the previously unseen items. A spreader bar. 

You smiled as you remembered your first experience with him and a spreader bar, spreading your legs apart as far as they could comfortably go and he adjusted the bar to fit before buckling your ankles into the cuffs. He then looked up at you, grinned and flipped you over so your face was pressed into the bed. So that was why he didn’t tie your legs to the bed when he tied your hands. 

You turned your face to the side to avoid being suffocated by the pillows due to the new position on your front and didn’t see him reach for the last object but you certainly felt the hard slap of a wooden paddle. “Remember, double click to stop.” He instructed before bringing the paddle down again, hard and fast. Your now hypersensitive nipples rubbed up against the bedsheets as you squirmed every time he hit you with the paddle. The pain ran into a hot blur of pleasure and you screamed when he threw the paddle across the room in favour of eating you out. 

You were unable to shut your legs as he flipped you around to get better access to your clit and he reached up to tweak your nipples. All you could do was lie there and watch as he gave long broad licks across your womanhood and his nose bumped against your clit. His fingers entered you and began to rub your g-spot while he sped up. You had no idea you were so close to the edge before, but suddenly you were begging, shouting at the top of your lungs,” Por favor Maestro! Por favor!” 

The smug, handsome bastard just sniggered against you, “no need to beg, pet, you are free to come whenever you want and I will lap up those delicious juices like they were water during a drought. You are truly delectable my love. Come for me, pretty please.” He made eye contact with you as he sped up his fingers and ever so carefully used his teeth to nip your clit, pushing you over the edge as your muscles contracted and the knot in your belly broke. True to his word, Raoul continued to lap at your folds while letting out groans of appreciation.

As you came down from your high he kindly ended the stimulation, knowing that it would become painful soon. When you opened your eyes you could see that he had moved up from in between your thighs and was now hovering close to your face, grinning before gently pressing his lips to yours. Such gentleness was normally only reserved for the end of a scene and you melted into it, tasting yourself on his lips. 

His hands wandered the plains of your body, gently rolling your nipples between his fingers and his mouth pressed kisses in a trail down your neck to your collarbone. “I think you’re ready for my cock now darling, don’t you?” He laughed at your lazy, blissed out nod before kissing you again and guiding his member into your body. 

Your hips bucked involuntarily at the feeling of finally being filled to the brim and you savoured the sounds of his satisfaction, his praise being pulled out of him in the form of grunts and small moans. “Ohhhhh,” his voice wavered slightly, “pet, you have no idea of how perfect you feel around me, so hot and wet and deliciously tight.” He slowly pulled out, letting you feel the drag of his manhood on your walls, before pushing in again at the same slow tempo. After some more thrusts like this, his patience wore thin and he began pushing into you in earnest, fast and hard, knowing you could take it, would take it, for him.

Sweat dripped off of his muscled back as he continued, “my perfect, darling girl. What have I done to deserve such a beautiful companion and such wonderful devotion and submission? You make me feel incredible, my love. Your body beckons to me and begs me to fuck you, even as words escape your mind and all that comes out are your whimpers.” His hand moved to your clit and began rubbing it quickly, “come for me once more. Please me by letting me feel how your walls flutter around me and drag me in.”

Your back arched and your head fell back onto the pillows as he bit into your neck firmly, marking you as his. You screamed his name - his true name- as you came for him a second time before you felt him quicken his thrusts before letting out a growl against your body as he came.

After spending some time basking in the afterglow, he got up and I cuffed you from the spreader bar, setting it aside to be put away later. He lay beside you, running his fingers through your hair and smiled when you managed to mutter a thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> Well that was fun to write ;)  
> Here are your translations! (I got it all from google translate, I’m sorry)  
> Maestro - Master  
> Si - Yes  
> Mi querida - My dear  
> Tus manos - Your hands  
> Por favor - Please  
> Mi coño - My cunt  
> The translation of Raoul’s paragraph is right below it and in brackets :)
> 
> Please leave me a kudos if you enjoyed - guests can leave them on fics as well xx  
> If you have any tips to improve my writing please leave them in the comments, they will be greatly appreciated!!!


End file.
